“Yes, I am.” Surprise went through her. She didn’t usually return to subjects she’d already done, but this begged a painting. She turned back to the tree. “It defines Christmas, don’t you think?”
Chrissy shoved back on strands of blonde hair that escaped her ponytail. “They had a creche last year but left it out this time. I went to the meeting and spoke for putting it back in place. Stevie slept under that tree last year. It was a Christmas miracle they found him.”
“That’s what the season is about.”
“I thought so. But the parishioners were leery of all the fuss so opted out. I’m hoping to convince them for next year.”
“I should paint it with all the decorations from last year so they can recognize the miracle.”
“Could you paint it that way?”
“Sure, people should have pictures. The creche belongs in the painting.”
“You should ask Pastor Kyle. He might know who. This town could use the reminder.”
Thinking of Clem and Slade, Summer couldn’t help but agree.
The toddler fussed. Chrissy searched in her pockets and rescued a small toy horse from the folds in the fabric. “Here you go, buddy.”
“He’s grown so much.” Summer studied the child’s solemn face light with joy over what was most likely a favorite toy.
“Meg and Bret have been marvelous to him, and me, too. They swayed the judge for a co-guardian arrangement and have helped me so much.”
Summer grinned. “They’re good people.”
An Echo Falls police vehicle stopped next to her at the curb. The window whirred open. “Ladies.”
“Hi, Tom.” Chrissy gave him a little wave.
“Hi, honey.” Summer stepped to the curb and leaned on the window. Busted. Pictures now would raise his suspicions. “How’s your day?”
“It’s moving along. I tried to call you. Want to do welfare checks in the canyon with me?”
“Sure. Are we stopping at Clem’s for food? I could use something warm.”
“I can make that happen. Need a ride Chrissy?” Stevie lost his shy and waved at Tom. “Hey, buddy!”
“Nope, we’re going to the library for story time. Thanks, though.”
Summer stepped to the sidewalk. “I’ll catch up with you later? Would you help me get the whole idea squared before I paint?”
The woman blushed. “I’d love it. Might be something tangible I can show Stevie later so that time doesn’t seem so dastardly.”
Dastardly. This woman read. “I agree. I’ll find you.”
She opened the passenger door and slid into the seat. Waving at Chrissy and Stevie, she glanced at her husband.
He eyed her. “What’s the camera for?”
“Pictures. I’m searching for inspiration, location, and vibe for the mural. I stopped to study the Good Shepherd Churchand was drawn down the block to the Lutheran Church in all it’s Christmas glory. Both went on my list to paint.”
“Didn’t you do all the churches?” Tom pulled away from the curb and muted the volume on his radio.
Summer fastened her seatbelt and wiggled to settle. “No, I checked Jonathan’s list and the inventory in my paint room. Methodist and Lutheran only. The rest I didn’t do. I guess it wasn’t the right time.”
Tom looked both ways and turned toward Clem’s. “The tree is spectacular, but I said that last year and the year before.”
Summer stared out the windshield to keep from gazing agog at her uniformed husband. Why was he so compelling? “Is it possible to get to the point where you know the decorations honor the holiday and shouldn’t go any further?”
